Pretty When You Cry (Robin Buckley x Reader)

cigarettes, kisses, tears

The party was fucking boring. You sighed and downed your beer, smiling at the fellow party goers.

You wanted to go for a smoke, but first, you needed to relieve your bladder.

Your head hurt, you were too gone to bother to knock.

The sight that met you was a pretty girl having what looked like an identity crisis staring at herself in the mirror.

You stood awkwardly and stared.

"Everything okay?" You asked. Your words melting into each other.

The girl was clearly drunk. "noiminlovewithsomeoneihavenochancewith" her words were slurred you could not understand her.

"Umm.... wanna have a smoke with me?"

You could really not deal with people you did not know crying,

"Why would you want to have a smoke with me I'm all weepy. Steve says I am a terrible drunk and that when I drunk I just can't shut my mouth any more than when I am sober, you know? So it probably is not a good idea for me to be having a smoke with a pretty girl in my current state of mind, because I will probably end up spilling all my secrets to you."

She was babbling and blushing and talking with her hands. You were to inebriated to deal with that.

You grabbed both of her hands so that she stopped moving them.

"Just stop, stop, and come have a smoke with me."

She nodded, her cheeks deepening in a beautiful red color. She had freckles all over, even in her arms. Where did the freckles stop?

You stopped that train of thought. It was not healthy and would only bring you heaps of trouble.

The girl probably needed a friend at the moment, not some girl wondering If her freckles were all over....

The girl meanwhile, was having thoughts along the same genre.

You were so pretty, in your white mini skirt, and pink top. Your lips glossed and plump, looking so kissable, your perfectly manicured hand in hers as you led her outside.

You basically skipped to the only lone lawn chair in the patio.

You led her to sit, and she babbled and babbled, she wanted to be a gentleman and give you the seat, but you were done.

You gave her your best puppy dog eyes that always worked on everyone.

The girl blushed and sat, "But where will you sit?"

You sat on the grass, her legs opened so you leaned in between them. You rested your head on her inner thigh and you could swear her breath hitched.

There was a lawn table, which had a dirty ash tray. Perfect.

You took out your Marlboro and lighter.

You placed a cigarette between your lips and lit it, inhaling deeply, letting the smoke collect in your lungs.

"What is your name?"

"Robin, Robin Buckley."

"Well Robin, Robin Buckley, my name is y/n, l/n."

Robin's chin trembled and her blue eyes shimmered with tears.

"Robin, Robin, why do you cry."

"You are so fucking pretty." Robin laughed, as tears streamed down her face.

You panicked, her eyes were glistening, she looked so pretty.

"Here Robin, don't cry, have a cigarette."